


Chicken Soup for the Post-Angelic Soul

by gameamab (orphan_account)



Series: Batcave!verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, fallen!cas, human!Cas, sick!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-30
Updated: 2013-03-30
Packaged: 2017-12-07 00:51:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/742176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/gameamab
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas is human. Cas got sick. Dean looks after him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chicken Soup for the Post-Angelic Soul

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at 11:30 last night because sick!Cas (much like Cas-on-a-bus) makes me really happy.  
> Un-beta'd as always. Enjoy.

‘I hate everything,’ Cas groans, Dean walking in with a cup of green herbal tea stuff, that smells bitter sweet and promotes immune system growth according to the box, putting it on his side table. 

Cas is resting in Dean’s room, on Dean’s memory foamed bed, Dean’s sheets up to his chin and his nose red and his eyes puffy.

‘I thought you loved everything. Liked all the little details and imperfections because Daddy made it so.’

‘I can’t see it all very well from in here, now can I?’ Cas grumbles.

‘Yeah, well, it’s your own fault,’ Dean says. ‘Rule number one of being human: don’t go outside with bare feet in the rain and two: always wear a scarf during windy weather.’

‘You never do,’ Cas croaks.

Dean smiles. ‘That’s because one: I would look stupid in a scarf and bare feet and secondly, I am a hunter.’

‘So am I,’ Cas protests meekly, his voice nasal and while he would never admit it to anyone ever, Dean thinks it’s completely endearing.

‘Not a very good one. Not yet anyways.’ Dean pats the bed for a moment, trying to work out where Cas’ legs are before sitting down.

‘And why is that?’ the former angel coughs.

‘Because hunters don’t get sick.’

‘That is impossible, Dean. Hunters are human and humans get sick. You are no different from anyone else.’

‘Cas, the last time I was diseased, I was seven years old and Dad was telling me not to cough so I wouldn’t get Sam sick. I have been generally germ free since then. My immune system is basically made of Batman.’

‘That is even more ridiculous, Dean. No part of you can be physically made of a fictional character.’

Dean chuckles. ‘Love it when you talk nerdy, angel.’

Cas didn’t look at him and Dean could swear that under all the red in Cas’ face that it got redder.

‘Shut up, Dean.’

Dean smiles at him. ‘You gonna be all embarrassed or you gonna drink your hippie tea?’

Cas turns his head toward the cup, considering before turning back. ‘Maybe later.’

‘You gonna sleep a bit more?’

‘How long was I out for last time?’

Dean shrugs. ‘A few hours. Sam and I got through about three episodes of Doctor Sexy. If you weren’t so intent on sleeping you could join us. The Men of Letters did have the perfect TV wall even if they didn’t know it.’

Cas tries laughing but it turned into a cough half way through. ‘Sorry,’ he mumbles after the fit.

‘It’s OK.’

Quiet.

‘So you gonna get some shut eye?’

Cas nods.

‘You still been having nightmares?’

‘Sometimes.’

Dean pats where he thinks Cas’ hand is. ‘You call if you do, OK? I’ll drop everything and come running. Me and Sam aren’t going anywhere when you’re like this. You got that?’

‘Yes, Dean. Thank you, Dean.’

‘No problem, angel,’ Dean says before kissing Cas on the forehead. ‘Get some rest.’

Dean is walking out of the room and turning out the light, hearing Cas turn in the sheets to get comfy, when he hears it. 

‘Love you.’

Dean smiles. 'You too, Cas.'

He leaves before he can see Cas smile into his pillow.


End file.
